


I Was Ever So Lost

by beware_of_you



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Michael is a Little Shit, She Deserved Better, alternate title: mallory reunites her moms, but we been knew that, just like ryan murphy i said fuck myrtle snow lives I guess I'm sorry vape queen, misty is v gay and v protective, she's saying what we were all thinking lets be real, smh everyone rly left her in the future with michael, stevie has HAD it with michael's stupid ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beware_of_you/pseuds/beware_of_you
Summary: fuck it I'm giving the gays everything they want





	I Was Ever So Lost

**Author's Note:**

> ha gay

"I want to go back to the school."

Stevie looks up from the book in front of her, using her finger to mark her place as she raises an eyebrow up at the young witch.

"The Hawthorne School," Misty clarifies, shifting under her idol's gaze. She breaks the eye contact with the older woman after a moment, pulling her own shawl around her shoulders as if it were her safety net. "I want to go back there."

At first, when Stevie hears Misty say it, she's sure she's imagining it. The young witch had been quiet throughout their weeks together, Cordelia sending Misty off with Stevie to heal almost as soon as she was back in the mortal realm. The Supreme made it very clear that the White Witch was not to bring Misty back to the coven, let alone back to the warlock's school.

Even if Stevie wanted to entertain the young woman's request, she would never actually attempt to bring the swamp witch to the school. She may be the Stevie Nicks, but she would be an absolute idiot to even think to disobey Cordelia's orders. She was her Supreme, Stevie's celebrity status couldn't even save her from that fact. And she would not disrespect her Supreme by ignoring her orders.

"Don't be a fool, honey. Cordelia told me to protect you from the fight. You need to stay with me til you're better," Stevie murmurs, going right back to her book.

"That's the point, Stevie!" Misty says exasperated, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm stuck here with you while the rest of my tribe, my coven, is fighting for their lives!"

"Well, dear, you did tell Cordelia that you didn't want to fight. You lost your footing, remember," Stevie recalls. "Your words, not mine."

"That was before," Misty murmurs, running a hand through the mess of curls on her head. "Can't you feel it? Something bad is coming, I can't just sit around here with you and act like nothin's wrong anymore..." She trails off as she chokes up, eyes burning with tears threatening to spill over.

"Can't you feel that?" she asks again, tone strained as she looks at the singer, obviously stressed.

"Honey, I've felt it for weeks, but there's nothing we can do," Stevie says patiently, soothingly as she tries to calm down the other woman. "We just need to let Cordelia take care of this. You need to find your footing."

In response, Misty turns to an apple perched in the fruit bowl in Stevie's kitchen, lifting her hand and catching the fruit as it flies into her awaiting palm. She turns to the older woman with a pleading look.

"Please, I've found my footing, I know where I am, I know who I am and I know what I want to do," she pleads, a few tears escaping the corner of her eyes.

Stevie looks at her, expression sympathetic but obviously unwavering.

Misty inhales sharply and looks down at her fingers, refusing to meet Stevie's gaze. "My name is Misty Day. My family burned me at the stake after they found out I was a witch, but I brought myself back. I have the power of resurgence and used it to bring back Myrtle Snow when she burned. I failed the Seven Wonders and was stuck in Hell for five years until Michael Langdon brought me back. And now he's going to kill my coven, and everyone else..."

"I didn't want to fight, but now I do. I need to," she finishes softly, biting down on her lip. "They need me, Stevie."

"They need you to be safe," the White Witch replies softly, yet firmly.

As a last resort, Misty looks around and goes towards the window, picking up a dry and very dead butterfly with shaking fingers. She hadn't attempted resurgence since she been brought back; she had been too afraid to. But now she had something to prove, and if this was what it took to convince Stevie, then she'd just have to suck it up.

Her breathing is quick and uneven and she can feel Stevie's eyes on her like a hawk, but she closes her own as she lays her hand over the creature on her palm.

Softly, almost inaudibly, the latin falls past her lips. Her incantation is strong ("Always say the spells with a strong intent," Cordelia had once instructed her) and sure, quite opposite to how she must look to the famous singer, she's certain. But when she feels the fluttering against her fingers, she feels more confident and stops shaking so bad.

She turns back to Stevie and lets the butterfly free from her grasp, watching it fly around the room once more before looking at the older woman, tears still falling.

She opens her mouth to plead and beg more, when a sharp siren cuts her off from somewhere in the distance.

She feels heavy and dizzy with her own anxiety, snapping her head out towards the door. "Stevie?" she asks, voice strained with panic, turning around to see the singer right behind her. Stevie's face was pale, her expression mirroring Misty's own, eyes wide, heart racing and hands shaking. "You felt that?"

"We need to go," Stevie says firmly, reaching out and gripping Misty's bicep. The younger witch doesn't even wince as the singer's nails dig into her skin.

"Go!?" Misty all but cries out, gesturing harshly to the outside. She knew Stevie felt what she felt, knew that whatever was going to happen, nowhere would be safe. "Where the hell do you want us to go!?"

"Quiet, I'm thinking," Stevie snaps and Misty shuts up, unresponsive to the celebrity's harsh tone and words. She can hear Stevie murmuring in a panicked tone "Go, go where? Where are we going to go?" under her breath over and over. Her eyes are shifting nervously and she's radiating so much fear, Misty almost feels like she's back in hell.

She does flinch when the woman grabs her other bicep, shaking her slightly as she looks at the girl with such intensity, Misty almost backs away. "Can you transmutate?" Stevie asks quickly, nails digging into Misty's shoulder.

"I-" the girl starts, eyes wide, unsure of what the older witch is asking.

"Can you transmutate, Misty?" Stevie asks more firmly. "Can you use your magic to get from one place to another?"

"I... I don't know. Maybe I did it once, back with Zoe... But I died before I could really..." Misty stammers uncertainly before she gets cut off by Stevie ordering her to try. "Hurry," the older witch says with a hint of desperation. "We don't have much time."

Misty closes her eyes and tries to think of Stevie's kitchen, tries to focus her magic to move her to the area she's envisioning in her head.

There's a small puff of smoke and when she opens her eyes, she's in Stevie Nicks' kitchen.

There's no time for celebrating her newly discovered ability, there's danger coming and it's coming fast.

Stevie is beside her, gripping her arm once more. "Think of your swamp, Misty, now."

"Can we even go that far?" the young witch asks in surprise, biting her lip nervously. "Stevie, I don't think-"

"Girly, do it. We need to go. We don't have a choice, we need to go," Stevie snaps, voice strained. "Do it, now. We'll be safe there. Go."

Misty nods quickly, closing her eyes once more as she thinks of her swamp, a place she hadn't been to in years. She tries to reach the deep corners of her mind, reaching for small details like the plants and animals that she sees, the sounds she hears, what she smells.

When she opens her eyes again, she's ankle deep in mud, dress floating on top of the thick substance. Had it not been for the impending danger she feels, Misty would have enjoyed the feeling of the cool, slick mud between her toes, the smell of the wet earth and pond lilies that fill her nostrils.

She snaps her head towards her right when she hears a sick plop, only slightly relaxed when she sees it's Stevie. What were they going to do now? They couldn't do anything until-

There's a distant blast, a bright light that has Misty quickly snapping he head down towards the ground. There's a strong gust of wind, but it's hot and Misty is reminded of being burned at the stake.

Then things go dark and Misty can't feel anything at all.

— — —  
Fingers break through the dry, brittle top soil, reaching up and clawing at the ground desperately. Misty's nose breaks free first and she inhales deeply and quickly, drinking in the poisoned air that has no effect on her lungs. Her hands find purchase and she clambers from ground, gasping like a fish out of water. Her normally wild, curly hair is stuck to her face with the thick mud that lies beneath, the mud that she and Stevie had been trapped in since the blast.

At the thought of her favorite singer and friend, Misty looks around frantically, going to speak but spits out a mouthful of mud instead. She coughs and gags to rid herself of the thick, viscous substance that coats down her throat.

She trembles, tears springing to her eyes from the force of her heaving. The tears cut clean lines through the mud, dropping to the ground and leaving green blades of grass that die as soon as they're exposed to the toxic atmosphere.

After a few minutes of this, Misty's throat finally feels somewhat clear; dry but clear. She breathes heavily, wincing at the taste of the bitter air. She looks around through blurry eyes, wiping her running nose with a mud caked hand. "Stevie?" she croaks out, standing herself up on her knees.

"I'm right here, girly," Stevie assures the younger witch, voice slightly stronger than Misty's. She was a few feet away, using a large rock to hoist herself up on shaking legs.

"What happened?" Misty asked hoarsely, testing her own legs by slowly standing up on them. She's shaking like Stevie, but if she leans her weight to one side she can manage.

"We got blown up," the White Witch says bluntly, voice laced with disgust. "He's the antichrist for christ's sake, why the hell does he need nuclear weapons?! Pathetic," she hisses to herself.

Misty finds herself nodding, moving what hair she can out of her face. "I need to make sure my tribe is okay," she murmurs, more to herself than her appointed guardian.

"Okay," Stevie replies quietly. "We'll go, they'll need you now."

Misty nods, thankful, but once Stevie starts walking, she's confused. "Wait, Stevie, the academy is that way...?" she says, voice trailing up and raising up at the end in a question.

Stevie pauses and turns around, looking anywhere but at the young witch. Finally, after a long moment of silence, she speaks. "The academy is gone, we can't help anyone there, honey. We have to go to the Hawthorne School to help Cordelia..."

"Cordelia's okay?" Misty cuts her off, voice cracking at the mention of the woman, at the emotion behind it when she said her Supreme's name out loud.

Stevie nods once, gently resting her hand on the young woman's forearm. "Yes, honey, but we have to hurry. She needs help."

Misty's lower lip trembles as she looks at the older witch, looking back towards the direction of the academy. "But the others..." she trails off, a few tears slipping down her cheeks.

"We can't help anyone there," Stevie says softly, apologetically. "We can't help them. We can Cordelia, do you understand what I'm saying, honey?"

And Misty nods because she does understand and, God, it hurts her so damn much that she understands what her friend is telling her. It hurts her more than anything she ever experienced back down in Hell, and down there she hurt and experienced more than any one witch ever should.

Her friends are gone and she and Stevie can't do anything about that and it fucking hurts so bad to know that. Misty's chest hurts from the sobs she's struggling to contain, her head swimming with this information.

Stevie rubs the young woman's arm gently, taking her in her arms for a soothing, comforting hug because she knows the swamp witch needs it. But she also knows that they are running out of time, and that they need to focus. So she pulls away slightly and wipes the muddy tears from Misty's cheeks, whispering to her softly. "We can't help the others, but we can help Cordelia, okay?"

Misty's blue eyes are murky with tears, her lower lip trembling violently as the sobs tumble out from deep within her chest. "Cordelia. You can still help Cordelia," the voice at the back of her head says softly and she knows it's right. She can't help her friends, but she can and needs to help Cordelia.

"Okay," she croaks out through her sobs that are starting to slow. She inhales shakily and nods slowly, repeating herself. "Okay."

"We can't use magic or else Michael will sense us coming, okay? We need to walk," Stevie murmurs, releasing the woman from her hug and gently guiding her forward with an arm wrapped around her shaking frame.

Misty just nods.

And so they walk, walk along the death, the destruction, along the absolute wasteland that they both once called home. After a few hours, Misty doesn't have the energy to cry over her dead friends anymore, instead feels numb and hates herself for being so weak for not fighting with her sisters.

Eventually, though, that gets tiring too, and Misty just follows behind Stevie in absolute silence.

She tries to focus on Cordelia, her hands shaking when she thinks about the Supreme. Misty tries to tell herself that she can protect her from Michael Langdon, that she can take the antichrist head on because, no matter what he threw at her, she had been through worse.

She decides that is her sole purpose when the two witches are a few days away from the Hawthorne School, to protect Cordelia at any and all costs. That Misty Day would rather die than let Michael Langdon lay a single finger on Cordelia Goode. If she died protecting the other woman, than so be it. She was the only person left in Misty's life besides Stevie she truly cared about, the one person she loves with every fiber of her being that is still alive and breathing.

It's this purpose that brings the urgency back into her walking pace, that brings a small bit of hopefulness back into her heart for the first time since she and Stevie pulled themselves from the bayous of Louisiana.

All of that is shattered when the two witches hear Myrtle Snow's shrill cry of "Cordelia!" when they're just a few feet outside the underground school's large black walls.

At the sound of the redhead's cry, at the wave of pure sorrow and pain Misty feels from under her feet, she completely throws everything Stevie had said about their magic out the window and takes off in a dead sprint towards the school.

She's closing her eyes, thinking desperately of the room she had been brought back in. She opens her eyes and stops a few inches away from the fireplace inside the school. She puts her hands up as if to catch herself, whipping her head around wildly as she tries to determine where Myrtle is located.

She hears the redhead's far cry of anguish and swiftly moves towards it but freezes briefly when she comes across two bodies in front of her, just in the middle of the room and in front of the staircase.

The one body has no head, gloved hands grasped around an object that vaguely resembles the barrel of some sort of semi automatic. Misty can tell who it was by first glance- from he dangerously tall and thin heels to the designer outfit... it's Madison.

The other body she doesn't recognize, so she really doesn't care enough to check and instead continues to search for Myrtle and Cordelia.

She comes across two more bodies, one with a broken neck (she doesn't know who that is) and the body of the voodoo queen. She steps around them carefully, cautiously. Her heart is pounding, head swimming from her own anxiety and Myrtle's anguish.

She can feel Michael Langdon, smell him close by, but he doesn't seem focused on her. He's in a room much further away, hissing and shouting about something Misty doesn't really care to make out right now.

She sees Myrtle from a distance, in the middle of a circular room surrounded by a puddle of blood.

Misty fucking sprints to the middle of the room, hardly breathing and trying to push away all the feelings everyone is projecting onto her and...

She drops to her knees beside Cordelia, ignoring Myrtle's surprised, pain filled cries, mostly because the sounds coming from her own throat drown out the older woman's cries.

No, no, no...

Cordelia's eyes are open, vacant and void of the light, of the warmth Misty has grown so accustomed to since she's been back.

Her hair is soaked and matting in her own blood. A knife blade is lodge so deep in her chest, and the steady thumping Misty was used to hearing was gone, never to be heard again.

"No, no, no, no, Cordelia... Dee," Misty chokes out, letting out another strangled cry that sounds more like a wounded animal. She gently, carefully picks up the woman and rests her head on her lap, placing her own hands against her too-still chest. "Come on, Delia, come on. Come back to me, baby, come back," she begs, wild, choking sobs leaving her lips as the magic she feels flowing beneath her fingertips has no effect on the woman.

"Come on, baby, please come back to me," she whispers shakily, resting her lips on top of Cordelia's head. She closes her eyes and inhales, the stench of death hitting her nostrils instead of the sweet, herbal scent, Cordelia's scent, that she loves so much.

Misty shakes her head, focusing all her magic as she tries desperately to heal her, sobbing incoherently. "Please come back to me, baby, please," she begs into Cordelia's hair, biting her lip when she, once again, fails to bring life to the Supreme.

"It won't work, dearest," Myrtle manages to get out, eyes filled with pain as she reaches out and strokes a piece of Cordelia's hair with her fingertips. "She's gone."

"No, no, I won't accept that. I won't god dammit, Cordelia, please come back to me!" Misty cries out, letting out another anguished sound as her magic fails time after time.

"Well you need to accept it," both witches suddenly hear Michael say, voice above them, looking down at the three of them in disgust.

"You witches really are weak. Weak and stupid, thinking you could stop me," the man continued on, spitting out his words venomously. His shoes click on the stone as he slowly descended the stairs that lead down into the room. "Some Supreme she was, taking the cowardly way out and not even bothering to protect the three of you. And that... stupid hippy ran off because she knew that I would win."

"You shut your mouth," Misty hears Stevie snap from beside her. She's too focused on trying to heal Cordelia to even know, or really care, when the White Witch got there. "You haven't won a god damn thing."

"You know, I was never a fan of your music, Miss Nicks. Your lyrics are rather boring and uninspired. I guess it's just a reflection of your poor attitude. And, quite frankly, from where I'm standing, I have won everything," Michael sneers, stalking around the three witches like a predatory cat.

"Cordelia is dead, Mallory, your precious little Supreme-to-be, is gone, and whatever you had her do didn't work. I have won everything. I have killed everyone in your pathetic, little coven, destroyed the world and I am the most powerful being in this room, in the world," he smirks to himself, seeming quite pleased with all his accomplishments.

"It's a shame I'll have to kill you all, even more so Cordelia offed herself before I could get to her. I was really looking forward to keeping her alive and making her watch me kill you," Michael sighed, looking distraught as if that's the one thing he was looking forward to doing. "You witches really have to go and ruin all my fun."

He sighs again and shrugs, snapping his fingers, flames appearing in his palm. "You two are familiar with this method, aren't you? Myrtle? Misty?" he says in a joking tone, eyes full of a childlike glee that makes Misty feel sick. "Have you ever been burned at the stake, Ste-"

Misty snaps her head up when Michael stops talking, making out his surprised and pain filled expression through her tears. His eyes are wide with shock, flames disappearing as he clutches his chest with a sharp gasp. "What's happening!? What's going on!?" he demands in a breathless voice, gasping as he stumbles away from them with a yell of pain.

Through her own tears, Myrtle smiles wickedly. "Mallory," she says proudly, looking back at Cordelia and squeezing her hand. "She did it, little bird," she murmurs. "She saved us all."

Misty stares at Myrtle, shaking her head slowly. How could she say that when Cordelia was laying dead in her lap? What was happening? What had Mallory done?

There's a loud, ear piercing scream and another bright light that has Misty squeezing her eyes shut.

And then...

"Mister Krinely, she did it again!"

Misty opens up her eyes and her heart sinks when she realizes where she was.

She looks at the boy across from her, then down at the table at the frog she had just revived hops around. "No," she croaks out, wincing to herself.

Mister Krinley, the teacher, stalks over to the table and looks at the frog, unamused. "Where's the dissection frog?" he asks tiredly.

"It's right there! She brought it back to life," the boy sneers, pointing to the frog that's gleefully hopping around, unaware of its unavoidable fate.

"Shut up, Bobby! She brought in a live one to trick you," Mr Krinley snaps at the boy before he turns his wrath onto Misty. "But the trick's on her. Pick up the scalpel," he orders the witch.

"No, please don't make me," Misty whimpers, closing her eyes as she tries to block out the inevitable.

The teacher's hands are as cold as his voice when he snatches the blonde's wrist, guiding her hand and scalpel towards the frog. "If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you will dissect a live one."

"No, I can't kill a living thing," Misty pleads, tears threatening to spill from her cheeks.

"You'll do it or I'll have a talk with your parents," Mr. Krinley shouts, ignoring the girl's sharp and shrill cries of "No!" as he forces her to cut into the frog that was once hopping around on the table.

Blood pours out from the deep cut and the frog stills. The teacher, looking satisfied, walks away.

Misty is crying freely a this point, raising her hands above the frog and bringing the poor, innocent creature back to life.

She relaxes and sniffs once the animal starts hopping around again. She wipes her tears and smiles a little at the animal before...

"Mr. Krinley, she did it again!"

The cycle repeats itself over and over again, so many times that it all becomes a blur to Misty. She has no time to even think about how or even why she's back at this place, and just numbly accepts it after a while.

Day in, day out, her hell scene seems almost routine to her by now.

Bring the frog back.

Get yelled at for it, called a freak.

Kill the frog.

Repeat.

She suppose she should be more upset over this than she is. After all, she's been through worse, much worse. But her demons are bent on this, on making her kill again, and again, and again to break her.

Maybe the old Misty would have broke, the one that was too scared to fight. But Misty feels as if the old her is another person, someone who hadn't experienced what true hell is.

Maybe that's why Nan and the voodoo demon, Papa Legba, are standing in front of her now, putting a pause on her hell. Perhaps they were both here to take the Misty Day she is now to her real hell, a hell where Cordelia dies over and over again and she can't do anything to stop it.

She knows that would break her.

"My dear child, come with us," the voodoo demon says softly, offering the young swamp witch his hand. Nan looks excited beside Papa Legba, looking as if she knows something Misty doesn't and it makes her even more hesitant to take the demon's hand.

Not that she would in the first place.

Then again, maybe she deserved the hell that they were here to take her to. This was her punishment for not fighting with the coven when she had the chance, for her being a coward.

But, god, did she deserve to see Cordelia dying over and over again?

Seeing her hesitation, Papa Legba smiles, red eyes warm and gentle. "Misty Day, someone has offer me something I could not refuse in exchange for your release, dear child."

Misty stares at the demon, looking between him and then at Nan, who nods excitedly.

"I don't understand... who? How? Why?" Misty murmurs in confusion, looking up at the demon.

He smiles, adjusting his grip on his cane. "Your friend, Mallory, offered me Michael Langdon in exchange for a few favors. You're release is one of those favors, child," he explains in a soft voice.

"But... I don't understand," Misty murmurs, shaking her head. "Why am I back here?"

"Mallory went back in time and killed Michael before he could do anything!" Nan finally speaks up gleefully. "She ran him over with a car! It was pretty badass!"

Misty pauses, slowly taking in their words and letting them sink in. "So... things... reset? My coven is okay? Is Cordelia..." she rambles nervously but is cut off by Papa Legba.

"My child, your tribe and your friends, your Cordelia are all safe. Now, Nan here is going to bring you home, okay? Do you trust us, child?" he hums, his tone sincere, hand still offered out for her to take. Nan sticks out her hand too, smiling warmly at Misty. "I'll make sure you're home safe, I promise!"

Misty pauses, then slowly takes Nan's hand, tears springing to her eyes. "Please take me home?" she asks quietly. She feels the voodoo demon's hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture that relaxes Misty slightly. "Nan will take good care of you. She's my favorite helper," he says fondly, smiling as the girl he mentions giggles happily.

"I'll take good care of her!" Nan promises before leading Misty out and into the mortal realm.

It takes them a while to get to the academy- Misty is still getting used to seeing things back they were before, back to how it was before she took the test of the Seven Wonders. The air was so crisp and fresh smelling, the sounds that flood Misty's ears making her relax more and more as the two witches walk towards Miss Robichaux's Academy.

Misty pauses outside the gates, looking in with a longing gaze. Nan smiles at her knowingly, giving her hand a squeeze. "She's going to love seeing you again, she misses you too," she echoes Misty's thoughts.

"Everyone here is okay? Zoe? Queenie? Madison?" she asks softly, wincing as the actress' name falls from her lips, as the vision of her at the floor of the Hawthorne school enters her mind.

"Madison is still down there," Nan explains, opening up the gates for Misty to walk through. "I'm supposed to bring her back in two weeks. Hell changes people; for Madison, it changed her for the better. It was her time down there that made her care more, made her brave and sacrifice herself for the coven."

The blonde witch nods slowly because she understands what its like, to be changed by Hell. She knows that she's changed too; that the part of her that was stupid and naive and afraid of everything has died and is long gone. She supposes that part of her died in the future and not in that classroom, the alternate timeline where everyone and everything she loves is dead and gone.

Scratch that, she knows the old Misty died there, died when she saw Cordelia lying there in a pool of her own blood.

She winces at the visual, turning to the academy with a sharp exhale. That part of her life is over and will never happen, she can say that for certain now.

If Hell is what changed Madison, she can wait just a bit longer until she comes back because it's certainly better down there than what they faced before.

Although, she does feel slightly sorry for Madison; Hell takes a lot out of a person. She can only hope the girl wouldn't be too upset when she came back.

"Are you ready?" Nan asks once they're in front of the door, cutting off Misty's thoughts.

The swamp witch just nods, staring at the door, heart racing.

Nan opens up the door with "Hey bitches," as her greeting.

Cordelia and Mallory are a few feet away, the Supreme's hand in front of the young witch protectively, ready to attack if necessary until she sees who it is. "Nan?" she asks in confusion, head snapping up when she sees the shadow of a second figure and then...

"Misty?"

The way her name tumbles from the Supreme's lips, a choked and disbelieving sob, almost makes Misty run up and take her into her arms. But the younger witch stands back, wanting to take in every bit of Cordelia; the sight of her, her scent, the racing, unsteady beats of her heart.

Misty almost bursts into tears; Cordelia is here, she's safe, she's alive. She stumbles closer, hearing herself murmur a soft "Hey," that's almost unsteady as she is.

"Oh my god," the Supreme breathes out, tears filling her eyes as she looks at the two witches. "How can this be?"

She stumbles forward, hand shaking as she stretches it out and caresses Nan's cheek, almost in disbelief the two girls are back. She turns to Misty and the younger witch can't take it anymore, finally stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the Supreme. Misty's eyes close at the feeling of Cordelia in her arms, at her warmth.

Cordelia was really here and she was really safe. That thought is what makes Misty's grip on her Supreme tighten, her fears and anxieties finally fading away.

"How can this be possible? How is this possible?" Cordelia sobs out, pulling the girls in closer as if she didn't have a good hold on them, they'd fade away. She's in shock, and is wondering if this is all just some realistic dream.

Misty grips her Supreme's arm with her free hand, squeezing it gently to convince Cordelia (and perhaps even herself) that this is all very much real.  
"Oh, Miss Cordelia," she starts, the words tumbling from her mouth before she can even stop them. "I never thought I'd escape my personal hell."

She pulls away from Cordelia's hug, but keeps her hand on her arm. "But then this one..." She smiles gratefully down at Nan before looking at the Supreme. "She showed up with the voodoo demon... took my hand and guided me home."

Her eyes lock with Cordelia's on the word home, rubbing circles on her arm with her thumb. The older witch blushes lightly and she looks down as Misty drops her arms, but she's smiling.

"I'm Papa's favorite!" Nan says proudly, looking between the two women with an amused expression, smirking at Misty briefly as she turns to Cordelia. "He's my boo. He sends me on errands!"

Her smile drops slightly and she tips her head to the side as if to hear something no one else can before looking back to Cordelia with a softer smile. "I have to go now," she murmurs, turning to walk away when the Supreme reaches out and touches her arm.

"Wait, go? Where are you going?" the older witch asks, confused.

"Back to Papa. I like it down there, Papa lets me play," Nan says with a wider smile.

"I-I don't understand..." Cordelia murmurs with a frown.

"You're not supposed to," the mind reader states, turning back to look at Mallory. The two share a smile that Misty understands (sort of), before Nan looks back at Cordelia. "Just say thank you."

And then she's out the door and gone.

Misty looks past her Supreme to Mallory, lip trembling a bit as the girl focuses on her. She had never met the girl before, not even in the other timeline, but Misty feels like she owes the young witch so much. There's a lot she wants to thank the girl for, but she supposes she has to wait until they're alone. Even then, she's not sure that what she says will ever be enough to express her gratitude to the young witch.

Cordelia looks at the door for a moment before looking back at Mallory curiously, wondering what that look she shared with Nan was about. Mallory shrugs with a smile, looking down and nodding once towards Misty, getting the older witch to focus back on her.

The Supreme shakes her head but then she smiles, reaching up to grab both Misty's hands. "Misty, I'd like you to meet an exceptional young witch."

Misty can't help the smile that comes to her face when she feels her hands in Cordelia's and how gentle she is when she pulls her towards Mallory. "This is Mallory," she introduces them softly.

Misty gently drops Cordelia's hands and it takes all her will power not to pull the girl in a tight hug because she owes the young witch in front of her so god damn much. But, instead of confusing her Supreme even more with that greeting, she just whispers, "Hi," really softly, a little choked.

Then, she takes a deep breath and smiles, taking Mallory's hands in her own. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," she says a bit louder, voice full of emotion.

Mallory smiles at her and squeezes her hands tightly as she replies, "It's great to meet you, Misty."

She glances back at Cordelia and then back to Misty, a knowing smile on her face. Mostly to the swamp witch, she says, "I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on." And, with a final squeeze of Misty's hands, she turns and walks up the stairs to give the two some privacy.

Misty watches her for a moment before turn to Cordelia, swallowing hard as she takes the woman in her arms again. She closes her eyes when she feels the Supreme's hand in her hair, caressing her. Her other hand's fingertips are pressing into her back, gripping her tightly, possessively.

"Oh god, I've missed you," the younger witch chokes out, voice muffled by Cordelia's shoulder. "I was ever so lost in that darkness..."

A few tears escape her eyes as she presses her face into the older witch's neck. "I never thought I'd see you again," she whispers quietly, her voice cracking as more tears fall.

"Shh, you're here now and you're safe," Cordelia coos, her own voice trembling and cracking. "You're home safe and that's all that matters."

"This place has never felt more like home than it does now," Misty mumbles against the fabric of Cordelia's dress, giving her back one more squeeze before pulling away. She doesn't go far, just enough to pull from the embrace but keeping a hold on the older witch. "I gotta tell you something important," she whispers, making the older woman lock eyes with hers.

"What is it?" Cordelia asks just as quietly, brushing a ringlet of Misty's hair behind her ear before resting her  
palm against the younger witch's. Her thumb gently strokes circles into her skin and the swamp witch can't help but lean into the feeling. Their faces are close, close enough to make Misty a bit nervous, but she starts to speak anyway.

"Time works so differently in Hell, works fast til everything becomes sort of a blur. But I guess it's kinda like how it is up here... Things are unpredictable, things happen without warning and really makes you regret taking the time you have for granted," Misty starts off, swallowing hard. She breaks eye contact with Cordelia briefly, only to press her lips to the palm of her hand (to which the older witch blushes). When she maintains the eye contact they've had before, she sounds a bit more sure of herself, more confident.

"Hell's really changed me, changed how I see things... I feel like I wasted so much time before just waiting for things to happen when I shoulda just did it in the first place, stop waiting for time to decide what I should do," she murmurs.

"What do you mean?" Cordelia asks softly, cheeks flushed from Misty's earlier display of affection. "What are you deciding to do?"

"This."

And with that, Misty cups her cheeks and tilts her head up slightly so she can finally press their lips together.

At first, the swamp witch hears her Supreme gasp in surprise, feels the air from that gasp against her own lips and almost yanks away.

But then, a split second later, Cordelia relaxes into the kiss, one hand curled on Misty's chest. The hand that's cupping her face brushes against her jaw, dances along her neck before coming to a stop at the back of the swamp witch's neck, pulling her down more so she's angled better.

Misty feels delirious, her head spinning, absolutely consumed with the thoughts of the woman in front of her, at the taste of her lips, the happiness that's radiating from her, her scent, just her. It's all so overwhelming and makes her so happy, she can't help the tears that fall down her cheeks, smiling against Cordelia's lips.

For the first time in forever, she's finally happy.

They break apart slowly when they both need air, staring at each other's eyes as tears stream down both their cheeks.

"I'm saying that you make this place feel like home, Cordelia. You were always the one to make me feel welcome, to make me feel safe, and not just here, but everywhere," the swamp witch says firmly, wiping away the older witch's tears with her thumbs. "I'm saying I love you."

Cordelia smiles widely through her tears, turning her face into Misty's hand. She adopts the younger woman's gesture and kisses Misty's palm. Her heart swells from the three words, because for the first time in her life, she actually believes the person who's telling her, knows that Misty is sincere.

And she's just as sincere when she locks eyes once more with the swamp witch and replies, "I love you too."


End file.
